


i was prepared to love you (just a funeral wake)

by Gosh_Mr_Big_Brain



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Pining, Unhappy Ending, also background morgwen cause i said so, also this is a repost cause i'm dumb, but i fucking love the title so, this hurt to write y'all i'm not gonna lie, this is getting posted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-08 17:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gosh_Mr_Big_Brain/pseuds/Gosh_Mr_Big_Brain
Summary: In which Arthur is a firefighter, Merlin is housemates with Gwaine, and the pining is endless. They try to get it together though, even if it looks like the universe doesn't want them to. (Somehow both a firefighter and a coffee shop AU)





	i was prepared to love you (just a funeral wake)

**Author's Note:**

> first off, i'm very sorry. This is... this is fucking sad y'all. like i actually cried writing the ending. but i really do love the title, so this is getting posted. again, cause i made this in a draft about a month ago?? but i didn't realise that it would be marked as if it were posted a month ago??? whoops
> 
> based off of the prompt: "I'm a firefighter and you live near the station I work at and we talk/flirt with each other a lot. One day me and my team get called to put out a fire and it's your home ablaze."
> 
> title from Weights & Measures by Dry the River

Arthur, regardless of what he may think of himself, could have a difficult time connecting with other people (likely due to the early death of his mother and his raising by a cold and distant father). Even on his best days, Arthur had been told (usually, relentlessly, by Morgana) that he could be a bit of a prick. On his worst days, even Arthur could admit that he behaved nothing short of an absolute nightmare. 

It was on one of those worse days that he had met Merlin for the first time. 

All Arthur wanted to do was go home, to shower off the horrible night he had just had and sleep for the entirety of his four days off. He had just finished working a twelve hour night shift and he was tired and on edge. It had been a long night and there had been an out-of-control fire where not everyone had made it out alive. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault, really - it was just the result of a fire that moved a bit too fast and shoddy infrastructure - but Arthur had always had a bit of a responsibility complex and couldn’t stop himself from wondering whether he could have saved that young man if he had been a bit faster, a bit braver, if he had tried a different strategy, if, if,  _ if _ … 

Needless to say, he was a bit distracted as he began to make his way out of the station, his wonderings and regrets wreaking havoc on his already exhausted mind. He hardly even noticed when a grinning, dark haired bloke came up to him, saying something in a cheery voice that Arthur didn’t hear and didn’t really care to. 

That constant repetition of  _ if, if, if _ , was still stuttering through his head, but Arthur stopped dead in his tracks when he felt a friendly hand on his arm. “What?” he snapped. He hadn’t meant for the question to come out so angry and boorish but it was already out there and Arthur didn’t have nearly enough energy to apologize and correct himself.

He turned to see the dark haired bloke narrow his eyes and retract his hand as if he had been burned. “Wow. You don’t have to be such an ass,” he retorted. “It was just a question.”

To be fair, Arthur hadn’t heard the original question, but he certainly couldn’t backtrack now. Well, if he were a different person he might have been able to, but Arthur was… Arthur (as Morgana usually sighed, sharing a pitying glance with Gwen). And, even though he was exhausted and those  _ if’s _ were still playing in the back of his mind, similar to the background music in a particularly horrible film, he still had enough awareness and pride to not let that (well-deserved, he would admit later) insult slide. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” the man began, speaking as though he were explaining something to an extremely slow child, “you don’t have to be such a fucking ass.”

“You shouldn’t talk to me like that,” Arthur warned in what he believed to be a dangerous tone and, even though he was certainly all bark and no bite at this point, took a small step forward. “I could take you apart with one blow.” 

And, at first glance at least, he certainly should have been able to. The man was tall, although only slightly taller than Arthur was, and looked relatively wiry. However, he also had the air of a scrappy street urchin that was still a few hearty meals and a good night’s sleep from reaching proper fighting conditions, no matter how ready he claimed to be. Not to mention, Arthur was quite certain that this man had never fought anyone in his entire life, if the nervous energy that was already exuding from him was anything to go by. 

Arthur also had a bit of an ego and he found it frankly ridiculous and a little embarrassing to think that just anyone could beat him in a fight- especially, this bloke. 

Speaking of the devil, he took a step forward as well. “Are you threatening me? Well, I’ll have you know that I could take you apart with less than that.”

“Would you like to put that to the test?”

You know what? Maybe we should-”

“Merlin!” And then Gwaine was rushing towards them, his grin, as large and roguish as usual, only dropping for a second when he noticed the tense looks on their faces, before coming back full force (albeit a bit placating). “Ah, I see you’ve met Arthur.”

“Looks like it,” Merlin (and what kind of rubbish name was that?) remarked in a surprisingly dismissive tone, his voice now completely devoid of any of its previous anger. He looked Arthur over with one last searing glare before turning his full attention to Gwaine. “You forgot your breakfast.”

And that was that. Arthur went home, fumed for approximately twenty minutes and then slept for a solid twelve hours. When he finally woke up to the irritating buzzing of his cell phone, he had the decency to feel a little guilty and a lot embarrassed about the whole ugly affair (although not guilty enough to do something about it at that very moment). Perhaps, he pondered, as he answered Morgana’s call, he would ask Gwaine to send along his apologies or write some horribly awkward letter for Gwaine to give to Merlin. Yes, Arthur thought, smiling slightly to himself, something to show this Merlin bloke that he wasn’t as much of an ass as he appeared to be at first glance. 

As Morgana chattered away at him over the phone, apparently having heard about last night’s disaster (no doubt from Leon or Elyan who would have relayed the information to Gwen) and attempting to distract him from the guilty thoughts that would usually have been haunting him, Arthur realized that all those  _ if’s  _ that had been plaguing him earlier that day, had vanished. He still felt a bit heartsick over the whole event and would likely feel like that for quite a while after, but his mind was clear. 

He wasn’t quite sure how, but he certainly was complaining.

\---

Arthur was grabbing coffee in preparation for his next shift when he heard a familiar voice, that he couldn’t quite place, blurt out from behind him, “Oh fuck, it’s you.”

For a moment, Arthur didn’t think anything of it. He wasn’t even entirely sure that the comment had been meant for him; as awful as he could be sometimes, it wasn’t typical for him to illicit that reaction from people. But then he saw the look that Gaius, the owner of the shop and the man who was currently running the counter, was giving him (his patented raised eyebrow of despair, which Arthur had only had the misfortune of receiving, full force, on two other occasions) and figured that, whether it was meant for him or not, he should probably figure out what was going on. 

Arthur turned around, half expecting to watch some dramatic scene play out between two people who were certainly not him. However, it wasn’t one half of a feuding couple or a footballer who had just seen a member of their rival team who had blurted that out, but Merlin. 

He was standing right behind him, arms crossed tightly across his chest and eyes narrowed. Arthur began to realize that, perhaps, that comment actually was meant for him. 

He flushed a little, remembering how he behaved Monday morning, but otherwise maintained his composure. “Hello,” Arthur said, priding himself on the lack of awkwardness in his voice, despite the clearly awkward situation. 

“Hi.”

“Er…” Arthur moved up in line as Gaius finished serving a customer and they left to go sit down. “I’m sorry about how I behaved the other day. I… I wasn’t exactly at my best but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” And there it was. An apology. It might have sounded a bit stiff but Arthur was proud of himself- this sort of thing didn’t come very easily to him. 

Merlin blinked at him. Once, twice. “Apology accepted,” he replied, his voice rising slightly in pitch towards the end, as if he were asking a question. He furrowed his brow and tilted his head to the side looking, almost, surprised, but didn’t say anything else. 

“No need to look so shocked!” Arthur huffed, feeling a bit insulted. “I’m not so uncivilized that I can’t apologize when I’m so clearly in the wrong.”

“To be fair-” Merlin lowered his arms to his side, his stance becoming much more open and friendly, “- you certainly didn’t seem like the apologizing sort when we met.”

“Yes, well, like I said. I wasn’t exactly at my best on Monday.”

Merlin went quiet for a moment before cocking his head to the side and asking, “Why not?”

Fortunately, as Arthur contemplated how on earth he was supposed to answer that, Gaius caught his attention with a sharp pronunciation of his name and an odd flapping gesture, indicating that it was his turn to order. He breathed a sigh of relief and made his way to the counter. 

He quickly relayed his usual order to Gaius and, after only a moment of consideration, he added, “And I’ll pay for the drink of the bloke behind me as well.”

Arthur wasn’t sure whether it was more pleasing or disheartening to see Gaius’s eyebrow of despair disappear as he looked at Arthur in surprise. “You’re buying a drink. For Merlin,” Gaius repeated in a tone so lost and bewildered that Arthur nearly lost it right then and there (It also appeared that Gaius  _ knew _ Merlin. Arthur stored that information away, somewhere, even though he wasn’t quite sure why). 

He ignored Merlin’s outburst of, “Sorry, you’re doing what?” and instead responded, “You don’t have to look as if you’re going to collapse in shock, Gaius. I do believe that I can be a decent person every now and then.”

And now Gaius was smirking at him which may, in fact, be worse than either the eyebrow or the surprise. “Of course you can, Arthur. I never meant to imply otherwise.”

Meanwhile, Merlin was still sputtering uselessly behind them. “I can pay for my own drink!”

Arthur looked at him, appraisingly, over his shoulder and said, “I’m sure you can. But it’s an apology and a gift. Don’t be an idiot- just take it.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Merlin glared at him but didn’t protest any further. 

Arthur turned back to Gaius feeling rather smug. “Well, now that that’s settled, I’d like to pay.”

The conversation died out after that but Arthur could still feel Merlin’s gaze, sharp and curious, burning into the back of his head as Gaius rang up what must have been Merlin’s usual order and Arthur paid. However, Merlin didn’t say anything until Arthur had his coffee safely in hand and was turning to leave. 

“Thank you,” he blurted, swivelling around to look at Arthur, his eyes softer than they were before. He paused as Arthur stared back at him, almost as if he were going to say something else but then he just shook his head good naturedly and repeated, “Thank you.”

Arthur smiled at him, small and a bit insecure, before waving his coffee free hand dismissively. “It was the least I could do.”

And then he left for his shift. But the grin Merlin sent him in return was a constant presence in the back of his mind for the rest of the day. 

\---

Merlin was at the coffee shop when Arthur returned the next day, sitting at one of the dozen small tables, reading a thin paperback. Arthur stared at him for a moment after he entered, unsure of whether he should say hello, just go and order, or leave and come back later, preferably when Merlin wasn’t there (which was the option he was leaning towards). It wasn’t that he was so aversed to having another conversation, if you can call them that, with him- it was more so that their conversations only had a 50% success rate so far and Arthur certainly didn’t want to force himself on Merlin, especially after the disaster that was their first interaction. 

However, the decision was made for him when Merlin’s eyes flickered up from his book and immediately met Arthur’s. There were a few moments of unsure silence, where Arthur stood frozen and uncomfortable at the entrance of the coffee shop. He was debating whether or not he should just bolt when Merlin, likely surprising both of them,  _ smiled _ at him and gestured him over. And, now that escape was clearly off the table, Arthur went. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Merlin greeted, dog-earing the page of the book he was on. Arthur almost instantly regretted coming over. 

“Yes, well, I could say the same thing about you,” Arthur replied, in a painfully casual tone. Somehow, he refrained from cringing at himself. “I haven’t exactly seen you around the shop before.”

Merlin just shrugged and grinned upwards at Arthur. “Well, I haven’t had the opportunity before. I only recently moved here and Gaius is my uncle, so I thought that I should probably give this place a chance. Turns out his coffee is decent- much better than his stew at least!” The volume of his voice rose towards the end, probably so that it would carry to Gaius, who was working the counter again. 

“I heard that Merlin!” Gaius called out, confirming Arthur’s theory. “Stop slandering me and my cooking before I stop enabling your caffeine addiction.”

Merlin only shook his head, his smile widening at the sound of his uncle’s loud, but clearly empty, threats. He turned to look at Arthur, who was then forced to deal with the full force of Merlin’s smile entirely on him. Arthur was willing to bear that particular burden, but he chose to ignore the fact that it was doing strange things to his insides. 

“He’s lying,” Merlin confided quietly, his expression, perhaps an awful attempt at mock-seriousness, looking more amused than anything else. He leaned across the table towards Arthur. “Gaius is too much of a pushover to ever deny me my coffee.”

And perhaps this was worse, Arthur thought, in a bit of a daze. Merlin was looking at him with eyes so wide and so blue (his eyes were blue- the part of him that was still functioning stored that fact away, along with the information that Gaius was Merlin’s uncle) and the light from the window was hitting him in such a way that he looked ethereal. Otherworldly. He could feel the odd fluttering in his stomach increase tenfold. Yes, perhaps this was much, much worse. 

He managed to shake himself out of it (placing that moment in a box that he wouldn’t dare touch for, well, ever) before the staring got too awkward. “Um, yes, well,” Arthur stammered, wincing at how he had suddenly forgotten how to function. “I’m nearly running late so I should probably go and order but… But I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Merlin smiled, in a manner that was almost fond, nodding his head in agreement. “It was nice to see you again, Arthur.”

“It was nice to see you too, Merlin.” And before he had the chance to spontaneously combust and cause an awful scene, Arthur left to go order his coffee. He could feel Merlin’s eyes on him the whole time but when he finally looked over, the moment before he left, Merlin was reading, suddenly seeming deeply engrossed in his book. 

\---

Arthur arrived deliberately early when he returned to the coffee shop the following Wednesday, surprising Gaius who wasn’t expecting to see him on one of his day’s off. Arthur blustered through a vague excuse before ordering his usual coffee as well as a chocolate chip muffin. Afterwards he went over to where Merlin was already sitting, this time reading a brightly coloured hardcover. 

“Hello again.” Merlin greeted Arthur before he had even looked up from his book, as if he knew exactly who was standing across from him. This time, he slid a bookmark between the pages of his book and then smiled brightly at Arthur. “Do you want to sit down?”

“If I must,” Arthur replied, as if he hadn’t been waiting for Merlin to ask. 

Merlin rolled his eyes as if he knew it as well.

\--- 

That night, Arthur had his usual weekly dinner with his sister and Gwen. If they found his constant smiling and distracted demeanor a bit odd, they didn’t say anything about it (although they did share many fond grins at his expense, which Arthur couldn’t be bothered to notice). 

\---

Somehow, it became a routine, the two of them meeting for coffee whenever Arthur had a day-shift and, occasionally, when he didn’t. Somehow, despite their undeniably rocky start, they became friends of a sort. 

It was strange. At first glance, the pair of them weren’t what one could call similar. How they were raised (both by single parents, but one a loving mother and the other a distant father), the friendships they cultivated (Arthur had a bit of trouble with that practice while Merlin seemingly had no trouble at all), even the career paths they chose (Arthur had nearly laughed he found out that Merlin was an English teacher but Merlin stopped him with one sharp look), were, quite literally, opposites. 

You had to look deeper, however. Past the surface differences, the ones that seemed and, occasionally, felt insurmountable. Because, as Arthur discovered through their frequent coffee… meet-ups (not dates, never dates, although he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to clarify that) those weren’t the things that mattered. 

What mattered was the embarrassed sympathy that Merlin wore when Arthur told him about meeting Gwen, falling in love with her in the span of two hours, and then realizing that she only had eyes for Morgana. The soft surprise on his face when he and Arthur unexpectedly agreed on a topic very close to both of their hearts. The anger in his eyes, turning them to blue fire, when Arthur finally told him about his father, about the childhood he had to endure. 

What mattered was the way Arthur felt he personally knew Merlin’s mother from the amount of stories he had heard. How, despite only ever meeting at the coffee shop, they had accumulated more inside jokes than Arthur had had with anybody besides, perhaps, Morgana. 

What mattered was the jealousy that Arthur felt squeezing his heart when Merlin told him a story about Freya, one of the only people on the planet to have had his heart, in the romantic sense. 

What mattered was the way Gaius smiled fondly at the two of them when he thought they couldn’t see and spouted vague, meaningless threats at Arthur from time to time. 

What mattered was that Arthur, against all the voices in his head (his father’s the loudest) telling him not to, could feel himself falling in love with Merlin.

He didn’t exactly feel taken aback by this revelation, though. Or so he claimed, despite nearly dropping his coffee and spilling it all over himself when the thought first came to him. But, once he had had time to think about and dissect his feelings, he realized that it had probably been a long time coming. Perhaps from the moment Arthur had decided to interact with Merlin, without being prompted to or feeling any civic duty. Or, maybe, when Arthur had bought Merlin’s coffee for him, in apology, something he had never thought to do before. Perhaps he’d had this feeling from the very moment he laid eyes on Merlin. Or, maybe, he had been brought into the world loving him. Regardless, he understood it now and there was certainly no going back.

Even if Arthur couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. 

Now, despite what Morgana would say (as she is, undoubtedly, a lying liar who lies) Arthur does not pine. He does not hesitate. He is, and has always been, a man of action; that’s what led him to becoming a firefighter. However, he is also, at his very core, a cautious person. He likes to think things through, plan things out, so that he, and the people around him, would not get hurt. 

Or, at least, that’s the excuse he used when days and then weeks went by and Arthur still hadn’t told Merlin how he felt. 

Arthur had no idea what it was that made the words die in his lips the moment he had an opening. On such occasions, their conversation would have petered out for a moment and one or both of them would take a sip of their coffee, lukewarm by the time they finally got to it. Then, Merlin would look at Arthur, his eyes friendly and warm and looking, there was no other word to describe it, like home. Arthur would open his mouth to speak, to confess his secret feelings or to ask Merlin out on an actual date (either or both, it didn’t really matter), but then- but then he would freeze. He would flush and look away and Merlin would get this endearingly confused expression but, by then, the moment would have passed and Arthur was right back where he started. 

Maybe he was simply scared of ruining one of the few good relationships he had in his life. Maybe he was so terrified that Merlin would say no, that he would be rejected once again, that he felt it was better for him to say nothing at all. Maybe his subconscious thought that they were better off as friends. Whatever the reason, Arthur always went into that coffee shop thinking,  _ today will be the day _ , but, without fail, he always left it, reminding himself that there was always tomorrow. 

(But if Morgana had to suffer through one more dinner with her brother sighing sadly and staring, his expression almost heartbroken, at her and Gwen’s joined hands, then she was going to lose it. And if he was pining after another Sophia type, no matter what Gwen said, she was going to kill him.)

\---

Tomorrow arrived eleven months, three weeks and two days after they had first met. However, it wasn’t Arthur who initiated it. 

They were in line together, waiting to order, and bickering back and forth about who was buying the coffee. Arthur had offered to do so (partly because he thought it could be the beginning of a slow-acting plan to woo Merlin and partly because he just wanted to) but Merlin was insisting that if anyone was going to pay, he should since he still needed to get Arthur back for paying for his coffee when he was short a few weeks back (and he phrased it exactly like that; as if he needed to get revenge on Arthur for being a decent human being). Arthur rolled his eyes in a fashion that, these days, he seemed to have reserved solely for Merlin and told him to stop being an idiot, that this was a gift and he should just take it. 

Suddenly, he was reminded of the first time he had bought coffee for Merlin, as an apology for being such an ass to him at the station. He met Merlin’s gaze only to find him looking right back at him, eyes soft, as if he were thinking of the exact same thing. They stared at each other for a moment and then… 

And then he kissed Arthur. 

Arthur was so taken aback that, for a moment, he was completely unable to respond. However, Merlin seemed to understand that kissing him had shut down a very important part of Arthur’s brain and simply pulled him a bit closer, smiling.

It took Arthur a beat longer to gather his thoughts and understand that, yes, Merlin was kissing him and oh, he should probably kiss back. Given that he had been waiting for this for, what felt like, his entire life, Arthur felt that he deserved it. Merlin, on his own, was a phenomenal kisser however, actively participating did do something to enhance the experience a bit. 

Enough so that, once Merlin had broken the kiss, all Arthur could do was stare at him with what he was sure was awe-filled eyes. I took him well over a minute to recover and, even after all that time, all Arthur could muster was a blurted, “What was that for?”

Merlin only laughed and smiled fondly back at him. “Well,” he began, taking a small step backwards and Arthur nearly found himself following after him. “The main reason was that I’ve been wanting to do that for the last eleven months, but it also-” he reached around Arthur, who suddenly noticed the crumpled notes clenched in his hand (enough to pay for both of their usual orders), and slammed them down on the counter in front of Gaius, “- worked as a fantastic distraction.” 

Arthur huffed out a surprised laugh, still staring at Merlin. “You- you clotpole!” he accused, more amused than upset. 

“Hey, that’s my word!”

“Well, it suits you perfectly at the moment.”

Merlin just grinned, shrugging his shoulders as if to say,  _ you’ve caught me _ . 

“I’ll get you back for that, you know,” Arthur threatened, attempting to glare at Merlin so that he would seem less besotted than he clearly was (he was almost certain that it didn’t work). 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And what’ll you do?”

Arthur gave up trying to look angry and simply smiled instead, reaching out to grab Merlin’s hand. “I’m going to take you on the best date ever planned.”

Merlin snorted, likely going for disbelieving but still managing to sound fond. “Will you?”

“Oh yes. The best date; I promise you,” Arthur whispered, squeezing his hand tightly in his own. 

\---

Arthur was humming to himself when he went out to dinner with Morgana and Gwen the next night. Actually  _ humming _ . Arthur never hummed (not even when he was with Sophia)! He simply wasn’t that sort of person. He also was no longer staring longingly at their joined hands like a lovesick wife waiting for her husband to return from war. Something was definitely up, but he seemed happy and Morgana didn’t have the heart to (and Gwen had forced her not to) push the matter with her relentless interrogations. 

She’d find out eventually, of course, but it would have to wait until next week. For now, she and Gwen just enjoyed the sight of Arthur smiling and smiled with him. 

\---

A few days later, Arthur found himself at the station working a night shift despite it being one of his days off. Leon had asked him to cover him while he spent the night at the hospital with his wife, Mithian, who was giving birth and Arthur, still on a high from being kissed by Merlin, willingly agreed. Thankfully, so far, it had been a quiet night- Arthur had gotten some paperwork done, beaten Elyan in ping-pong and was currently planning his date with Merlin. 

That’s when it all went to hell, of course. 

Gwaine rushed into the room, half dressed in his uniform, his eyes wild and face ashen. 

“We have to go,” he snapped, grabbing Arthur’s arm and pulling him out of his chair. “One of my neighbours called- the house is on fire and- and they think that somebody’s still inside.”

For a long moment, Arthur found that he had no idea what Gwaine was talking about. His mind was running a bit behind after several hours of inaction. Then it all hit him, so hard that he could feel his heart actually stop. Fear deadened his arms and legs until Gwaine couldn’t pull him any further. “Merlin,” he finally managed to choke out as his friend (because they were friends now, they had to be) tried to shake him out of his stupor. “Is he-”

Gwaine squeezed his eyes shut as he nodded his head, almost as if he didn’t want to see Arthur’s reaction. “They think so.”

Those three words were enough to basically shut Arthur’s brain down. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t think. He almost felt like he had after Merlin had kissed him in the coffee shop (and, god, was that only a few days ago?), barely able to function, but somehow the polar opposite as well. Because when Merlin had kissed him Arthur had felt nothing but joy and an overwhelming fondness. Now he just felt an all encompassing fear. 

However, it was that association, that memory, that brought him back to the present. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Arthur clasped Gwaine’s shoulder tightly. “Alright, let’s go.”

\---

The scene, when Arthur and Gwaine finally arrived, did not look good. The flames were high and spreading fast, quickly eating away at the infrastructure of the house. It was only a matter of time (and an incredibly short matter of time, at that) before the building began to collapse, even with a team of firefighters working to put out the fire. Fortunately, from what Gwaine had told him, if Merlin was asleep, his room was on the opposite side of the house from where the fire had started. Unfortunately, the smoke was already abundant and choking them, even though they weren’t actually in the house. There was no telling how bad it was in Merlin’s room or how badly it must be affecting him. 

“I’m going in,” Arthur told Gwaine, unwilling to wait any longer. 

“Not a chance, princess.” Gwaine stopped him with a tight pull at his shoulder. “I know the house better than you. It’ll be better if I go.”

And that was probably true. No doubt, Arthur would waste too much time trying to find Merlin’s room and end up killing both of them in the process. But he wouldn’t just stand by watching. He gritted his teeth and glared back at Gwaine. “Fine, but I’m still coming with you.”

Gwaine flashed him a quick, nervous smile, only a shadow of what it usually was, and said, “I didn’t doubt you would. Now let’s go save our damsel, shall we?”

\---

They managed to get in through a side door, which was still a good distance away from the fire was currently raging. The smoke, however, was heavy and thick, which worried Arthur immensely. He and Gwaine were wearing their SCBA’s but Merlin didn’t exactly have the option. He brushed that thought away; they’d just have to get him out of there as soon as possible. 

He followed Gwaine through the house, too nervous preoccupied to take in the sights, although even if he wanted to, it would have been too difficult with all of the smoke. Every few seconds, the house would creek ominously. They were running out of time. 

Gwaine captured his attention by pounding on a door and tilting his head significantly. It must be Merlin’s room. At least the door is closed, Arthur thought to himself, although that didn’t really make him feel any better. 

Gwaine shoved open the door, always too dramatic for his own good, and Arthur ran inside, his eyes immediately searching for Merlin through the smoke filled room. And then he spotted him, seemingly asleep on his bed. He was curled up on his side and looked so small that, for a second, Arthur forgot how to function. But then Gwaine shoved against his shoulder good naturedly and Arthur remembered how dire the situation was. He ran towards the bed. 

Merlin didn’t wake as Arthur gathered him into his arms, in a bridle carry that he knew Gwaine would tease them both about once enough time had passed. Because enough time would eventually pass. They would be fine, Merlin would be fine. 

They made their way, quickly, out of the house. 

\---

They were in the ambulance on the way to the nearest hospital, and the vehicle was filled with a nervous silence. Two paramedics (Lance and Percival, they might have said, although Arthur wasn’t in the right state of mind to remember) were sitting quietly, apparently having done all that they could for now. Gwaine was tapping his fingers, incessantly, on the metal bench that they were all sitting on and Arthur wanted to snap at him but he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Halfway through the ride, Arthur found himself kneeling next to Merlin’s stretcher, clutching his hand in his own. He needed some reassurance that Merlin was still alive and even though he looked like death (he was even more unnaturally pale than normal) and sounded a bit like it too (his breathing rattled in a way that couldn’t possibly be healthy) Arthur could feel Merlin’s faint pulse at his wrist. And, for now, that was enough. 

\---

The paramedic that Arthur thinks is named Lance tells them that Merlin inhaled a lot of smoke. He might pull through but he might not, only time will tell. Lance smiles sadly at them when he says this but Arthur has his eyes focused on Merlin and doesn’t notice. 

\---

Later in the hospital room as he waited for Gwaine to return with some shitty hospital coffee, which would be nowhere as good as Gaius’, Arthur paced back and forth, trying to think of something other than the man on the bed before him. It was a lost cause, however, because Arthur hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Merlin since… well, since the day that they had first met. 

Giving up on trying to walk himself into either distraction of exhaustion (whichever came first), Arthur sat down on the rickety, metal chair next to Merlin’s bed. He leaned forward, so close that his breath made Merlin’s hair dance across his forehead. From this angle, Arthur could pretend that Merlin was okay- that he hadn’t just gone through a traumatic fire and that his survival still wasn’t certain. With that thought in mind, he began to speak. 

“I need you to wake up,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. “Because, if you don’t, I will never get the chance to take you on that date I promised, or introduce you to my sister or even kiss you a second time. If you don’t wake up-” Arthur paused here, his voice cracking ever so slightly. He sniffed, trying to maintain his composure, “- If you don’t, we will never get the chance to fall in love. And I really want to get the chance to fall in love with you, Merlin Emrys.”

\---

Four hours later, Morgana got a call from her brother. She almost didn’t recognize his voice at first. Morgana had known Arthur for over twenty years but, not once, had she ever heard him so shattered, so close to tears. Not even after he finally stood up to Uther for the final time.

“Arthur?” Morgana’s voice was so soft, so hesitant, that Gwen glanced over at her from the closet, where she was currently getting dressed, her curiosity and worry both piqued. “What’s happened?”

“Morgana-” Arthur whispered, in a voice so wretched that Morgana could very nearly feel his pain as well. He began to cry and Morgana, sat, helpless, on the other end of the line, unable to do anything to help her little brother. 

As she would later find out, prior to him making that call, Merlin had died with Arthur holding one hand and Gwaine holding the other. 

\---

On the days when Arthur felt most angry at the world, he thought that, maybe, he and Merlin had never been supposed to meet and, when they hadn’t gotten the memo, the universe had decided to do something about it. 

On most days, though, Arthur felt so very lucky. Because, even though a world where he had loved and lost Merlin was painful, a world where he had never met him at all was much, much worse. 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me at tumblr: https://gosh-mr-big-brain.tumblr.com/


End file.
